


The Feeling Was All or Nothing

by thegoodthebadandthenerdy



Series: Femslash Feb 2019 [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, Femslash February 2019, Roommates, Short & Sweet, and rose is reys hot neighbor shes been mooning over for a long time, in which rey finn and poe are all roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegoodthebadandthenerdy/pseuds/thegoodthebadandthenerdy
Summary: She's halfway to damning Uncle Luke to hell when she finally finds the breaker she's looking for.Day 11: Spark





	The Feeling Was All or Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> i have Missed writing for them so much,, im not desertrosetico on tumblr anymore but the love never leaves my heart rest assured
> 
> title from moderation by florence + the machine

Finn shifts from one foot to the other, the flashlight rolling in his palm. But he keeps his mouth shut, which she appreciates.

Rey undoes the screwdriver from her Swiss Army knife and carefully removes the screws from the electrical panel's face. Resting it against the wall, she frowns at the breakers, her thumb tracing the slope of her bottom lip distractedly as she tries to puzzle out the handwriting on the labels. Or at least, the ones that are actually labelled.

"Who _did_ this?" she asks, not taking her eyes off of the panel. "It's worse than chicken-scratch."

Finn stutters on his breath, his eyebrows pinching as he tries to figure out if she's really asking or not. Deciding it's better safe than sorry he pushes forward with, "Pretty sure it was your uncle."

Rey sighs, sighs so loud and so long it must be a groan, but for the sake of appearances, it's a sigh. "Of course."

Finn, at least, has the decency to try to hide his laugh. Joke's on him, though because she can see his dimple between his fingers.

She's halfway to damning Uncle Luke to hell when she finally finds the breaker she's looking for - or, she assumes it's what she's looking for, the letters almost spell backgammon if she squints, after all - and flips it over, the clacking of it a familiar sound.

There's a muffled yell from Poe on the other side of the house, one she can't make out, and she turns pursed lips to Finn, trying to process the sound moments after the fact.

He looks like he's trying to figure it out too, but it only takes a second for him to shake his head and jog off in his boyfriend's direction.

Rey lets the side of her head drop to the left, resting it against the bare sheetrock walls of the single car garage. Her eyes fall shut, the tired skin beneath them finally resting from its taughtness. 

"Okay, so," Finn says, hand brushing over the top of his head idly as he takes his spot back next to the oil spill stain on the concrete. "That cut off the kitchen."

"The _kitchen_?" 

She consults the panel again, letting her bitten-to-the-quick nail trace over the worn lettering. Unless it's in Pig Latin, she's not sure how the label even remotely says kitchen, but she pushes forward. 

(Later, when she calls her uncle to give him a piece of her mind, she asks if it is indeed in Pig Latin. Luke Skywalker, the traitorous old bastard, just laughs until she hangs up on him.)

"Okay, uh, call him and ask him what this one does." She flicks the backgammon-kitchen back on and moves to the one beneath it, which doesn't even have anything written on the peeling label.

Finn tucks his phone between his shoulder and his ear in that way that Rey hasn't really figured out - and has damaged three phone screens because of - and replies that apparently Poe doesn't even know what that was to. 

"Tell him to turn a light on in every room," Rey instructs, flipping the breaker again. 

"Except the bathroom," Finn mutters, and Rey cuts a dirty look at him as she tugs a pen out of the bib pocket of her overalls. He shoots her an apologetic grin as he relays her request to Poe, who had already had the same idea. 

"The light in your room won't cut on," Finn says as Poe's muttering chatters through the line. 

"There's no bulbs in it!" she calls over Finn to Poe. "Tell him to cut on my desk lamp."

"Desk lamp?" Finn asks Poe, before snorting a small laugh and telling him in a lower tone, "I'm not repeating that to her."

Soon, there's a light in in every room of the house, and Rey is fighting away cringes at the echoing memory of her mother's voice from years before detailing her thoughts on the practice. There was no greater fear than hearing, _Is there any reason every light in the house is on?_

They've only managed to get the label on the kitchen and Rey's room before they're interrupted. It was a valiant effort, at least.

There's a dull knock on the brick, and then a joyous, "Hey, guys."

Rey, startled, drops three things in quick succession:

1\. Her pen (which stabs her bare foot before clicking against the concrete.)

2\. A quick line of expletives (of which she picked up from her Uncle Chewie, meaning they are either not in English, or not understandable to anyone that is her father or her uncle.)

and 

3\. Her jaw (which is mostly figurative, except not entirely because her teeth will still ache later for how hard she smacks them together when Finn coughs, "Staring," from behind her.)

"Hey, Rose," Finn chirps, because of course he chirps, he's a little shit. Vaguely, Rey makes out Poe's voice saying, "Oh, Rose's hear?" and then the sound of their call disconnecting. 

"Hey, Finn," she replies. "Rey," she adds, a smile rounding her face. It screws up though, her eyebrows pinching together as she adds, yet again, "Poe?"

Rey jolts, craning her head over her shoulder to see Poe leaned up against Finn, a sly grin on his face that could, in some circles, be considered charming. Rey just thinks it's full of shit, much like him. 

"Hey, Rose."

Rose squints a little at him, but draws her lips back to something less confused. "I saw all the lights," she explains, gesturing her hand a little. "Figured I should come make sure everything's okay?"

"We tripped a breaker, bathroom's out," Rey manages as she squats down to pick her knife back up. 

"But it turns out that no one can read Luke's handwriting, and it's what's labelling-"

"Half-labelling," Rey interjects as she moves back to her feet.

"Half-labelling the panel. We're trying to problem solve."

"Trying," Poe repeats, though there's a particularly droll inflection to it.

"And how's that going, exactly?" Rose asks with her own bite, but it's softened by the twinkle of mirth in her eyes.

"Poorly," Rey says, finally looking up and over purposefully at Rose.

"Well, y'know, I had my electrical license for a while before I came home to help Paige with the garage, I could help out, if you want. I learned a lot about decoding bad handwriting. "

"Rose, that's _so_ kind of you," Poe drawls out, elbow braced against Finn's shoulder, their repressed grins matching. "Isn't it, Rey?" 

Rey takes Poe's prompting in stride. Which is to say, she doesn't drop her knife again, and her throat doesn't immediately dry out when she opens her mouth to speak to Rose. 

"It is- but you don't have to give up your Saturday night because my uncle was, uh, enjoying the 70s," she jokes, her laugh as dusty as the brick that Rose is pushing off of. 

"It's my pleasure, honest."

☆☆☆

So here's the story: 

Two years ago, Rey Organa's lease on her not-quite-nice-but-not-particularly-shitty apartment lapsed because of unreconcilable differences with her morally bankrupt landlord, and suddenly she was out on her ass. 

Coincidentally, Uncle Luke was vacating the house he'd lived in for decades to go soul-searching on a cruise ship, then a backpacking trip across continent(s) unknown, and then wherever the wind took him for the next year or so.

Thus, on fear of moving back in with her parents, she'd happily accepted her uncle's offer of maintaining the house, and was delighted to be able to extend her guest bedroom to Finn and Poe, who were in-between places for the same reason as she. Fuck Armitage D. Hux (the D, of course, stands for a litany of unprintable things.)

Nevermind that, though. Having been best friends and neighbors for more years than could be counted on one hand, the three took to life together like it was an art form they'd been childhood prodigies in. Which was to say, once they kicked the rust off, it was as familiar as it was stressful, but still wholly worth it.

And three months after settling into 2187 Alderwood Place, Rose Tico had moved in a mere fifty feet away, so there was that.

She'd brought cookies (storebought, but arranged on a nice platter), wine (the good kind), and her radiant smile (nothing short of an amazing sight) to their front door just hours after the moving truck had arrived. 

Needless to say, Rey had fallen head over heels for her perpetually coveralled, beaming, and kind neighbor in a week. Poe liked to call it four days, after he'd found her, still holding a grocery bag, stuck staring at her while she changed the oil in her car out in the driveway. Rey liked to call it a week because she was her own damn person, and three days, in this case, didn't really mean much in the grand scheme of things.

☆☆☆

"Thank you so much," Rey repeats for what is possibly the umpteenth time. "Seriously, you're a lifesaver."

Rose grins her heart stopping grin, and replies the same way she had every time previous. There's still not even a drop of malice. "It's nothing, Rey, seriously."

Switching gears, Rey asks, "Well, what do I owe you?" 

"Owe me?" Rose repeats.

"For your time, of course."

"I'm not actually licensed here, so it's not like I'm on the clock or anything, Rey. And it was seriously nothing, okay? I wanted to help," she insists, grabbing up one of Rey's hands in each of her own. "To be here - with you."

"Oh," she replies faintly, that insistent ringing in her ears overloading any other words. Rose's hands are as rough as hers are, the distinct smell of a working hands lotion coming from them if Rey moves just right-

"Rey?"

A grunt of acknowledgment comes from the bottom of her throat as she casts her eyes back up from their joined hands to her scrunched face.

"I asked if you were okay - you've been kinda spacey today," she explains gently, fingers squeezing a little tighter, not painful, but reassuring.

Rey isn't exactly known at being the best with her words. Years of homeschool, and then keeping to herself at college hadn't exactly bred the most eloquent of speakers. Hell, her role model for the first nineteen years of her life had been Uncle Chewie - she wasn't exactly equipped for this.

But in that moment, with Rose's silent concern on her, she thought about every laugh they'd shared, every secret smile at Saturday Night Neighborhood Dinner, every inside joke and bout of compassion and genuine article joy in just being around one another. About how she felt, every single time she laid eyes on her, how heart felt.

They were friends, and friends can be honest with one another.

"Do you want to get dinner?" she asks, and she's proud to say it's not a blurt. Quickly, before the misconstruing can happen, she adds, "Just you. And me. At dinner."

Rose frowns slightly, not sadly or madly, just frowns, as if she's processing. It's visible when the words hit, when they snap and lock in her mind, and suddenly the grip on Rey's hands is strong and grounding. "I'd love that."

"Good. Great. Awesome," she replies, words dropping like flies from her tongue. Rose's face shifts to a smile, a small and encouraging thing that has Rey remembering to exhale. "Okay."

"Okay," Rose says.

☆☆☆

Dinner turns into all manner of things: breakfast, movie nights, picnics in the park and days spent alone together huddled over unmoving parts, trying to make things work again because it's what they do best.

And eighteen months later when she has an empty guest bedroom again, well, Uncle Luke's still got a year or two on his vacation, anyway. Besides, he owes her retroactively for that electrical panel - she swears there were sparks that day she and Rose stood in front of it.

**Author's Note:**

> im on tumblr @wlwshehulk !!


End file.
